Camilla Ch. 012

"Please come in," Dr. Singh said to Camilla. She walked into his apartment, and he looked around the hallway, hoping no gossipy neighbours saw this beautiful naked exhibitionist come into his home. She took off her high heels and left them by the door.

"What a nice home you have, doctor," she said, still in that breathy imitation of Marilyn Monroe that she knew he liked. In his living room, he had an extensive library of books on a huge bookshelf covering an entire wall, with only a TV in the centre and DVDs on the shelves above it, all these together making an isthmus between the two oceans of books. To the left of the TV and DVDs were all medical books in Hindi and English; to the right were books, in Hindi, Sanskrit, and English, of a variety of scholarly subjects. These included such Hindu sacred texts as the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Mahabharata, and other literature like the Kama Sutra. Also there were books on philosophy (including Schopenhauer), literature (including Shakespeare's complete works), and history (including Tacitus' Annals of Imperial Rome). Most of the books were old and had clearly been read by him already, so there was no reason to believe that the books sat there merely to look impressive. Camilla was in awe of the doctor's obvious intelligence, and since for her 'smart is the new sexy', she now wanted to have sex with him all the more.

"Are you a reader, too, Camilla?" he asked, trying to look in her eyes and not at her statuesque nude body.

"Not like you," she answered with her eyes and mouth agape.

"Dinner is just about ready," he said. "Your timing is perfect." As is your body, he thought. "I'll go into the kitchen and get the dish. Please come sit at the dining table." He went into the kitchen.

She walked over to the dimly-lit dining area and saw the table settings on opposite sides of the table, in the middle of which were lit candles. She moved her setting--a glass of red wine, a plate and a knife and fork--to the middle of the table and sat down on the chair there. This way when he sat with her, she would be at two o'clock from his vantage point. She saw on the wall, by the chair where he would sit, was a small altar to the gods Shiva and Parvati.

When he came in the dining area holding a small pot of food, he asked, "Why did you move to the middle of the table?"

"So you could see my body better as we eat."

"Well, that was very considerate of you," he said as he put portions of the food on her plate and his. He then put the empty pot back in the kitchen and returned to sit with Camilla.

"Sounds like my kind of food." She grinned slyly as she put some in her mouth. "Mmm...spicy!" She licked her lips like a cat.

"I'm glad you like it," he said as he started to eat. He took furtive glances at her lovely nakedness as she ate. Always wanting to be a gentleman in spite of his lust, he hoped she wouldn't see his ogling eyes, even though she'd done nothing other than encourage ogling. Of course, she saw his leering out of the corners of her eyes, and she deliberately pushed out her behind and curved her spine inward so he could see clearly what undulating curves she had. Oh, how he wanted to taste that soft, sweet, peach-coloured skin! Still, he had to remember to be gentlemanly, even though she wasn't exactly being a lady in the classic sense.

"I've always wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your defence of me against those kids who make fun of my accent," he said.

"I feel obligated," she said. "They don't make you lose face: they make us Canadians lose face."

"Still, I thank you for caring. I've been a lonely man these five years in Canada, so far away from my family in India. It touches my heart to see such a beautiful girl show me consideration." He fought back some sobs.

She grinned, shook her head and threw her hair back to make her breasts wiggle while saying, "Thank you."

"Thank you," he said, holding up his wine glass. They clicked their glasses together and drank.

"There's no reason to make fun of Indians," she said. "You have a fascinating culture: your art, music, spirituality. And people everywhere love Bollywood movies."

"Well, Bollywood isn't the best India has to offer in cinema, but our Sanskrit literature is something I'm proud of. There have even been Western scholars who have said Hindu poetry and philosophy are far superior to that of ancient Greece."

"Wow, you're smart," she said, beaming at him.

When they finished their dinner, he took the dishes back into the kitchen, insisting that she, as his guest, not help him. He came back and asked her how she liked the lamb curry.

"It was delicious," she said. Getting up from her chair so he could see all of her, she then asked: "Can you examine me now, doctor?"

"Certainly," he said, breathing heavily. They went over to the living room sofa, where he sat. She sat on the coffee table and spread her legs. He turned on some nearby lamps to get a better look. He also took out his penlight to see inside her vagina. He knew, as did she, that there were no warts in there at all; but he'd enjoy looking anyway, and she'd enjoy showing him.

"The yoni is an important Hindu symbol, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, voice cracking as he put his finger inside. "It's the divine passage, the sacred temple."

"The Holy of Holies," she sighed as his finger touched her G-spot.

"Yes, you could call it that." His penis was as hard as Shiva's linga stone, and ready to be used in the same way. "But one shouldn't talk about such religious symbols in an erotic context."

"I wasn't," she said; though the wicked girl was certainly thinking that way. His finger made it impossible not to.

"The union of...lingam and yoni...is not merely sexual...It symbolizes...the unity...of opposites...like yin and yang..." Indeed, Singh was unifying the spiritual (in his speech) with its opposite, the sensual (in his fingering and panting). His finger felt everywhere along her vaginal walls. By now he knew her vagina better than she did.

"Are you sure my yoni...vagina...is OK?" she asked, affecting insecurity about her beauty.

"It's perfect." He pulled his finger out.

"Can you check my asshole again?" She rolled off the coffee table and got on all fours on the floor. She pushed out her behind so he could clearly see her anus.

"Certainly." He suddenly remembered that he had no medical gloves, but he didn't care. He pushed his finger deep inside her rectum, again feeling for warts they both knew weren't there.

"Ohh!" she moaned with pleasure. After a thorough feeling of her rectal walls, he pulled his finger out. It had no faecal odor at all: he was impressed. Her opened anus looked like a chocolate-coloured Life Saver. "Is it OK?" she asked, looking back at him.

"It's perfect," he panted.

"So, you're sure I have no warts at all?"

"Yes."

"Am I stil desirable to men?"

"Without a doubt." With her naked on all fours before him, and with her behind pushed out at his face so her perfect vulva and anus were in clear view, he couldn't believe her 'self-doubt'.

"Maybe you're just saying that to be polite." (She loved pretending a sexual situation was non-sexual, acting as though her obvious seduction of him was merely a medical check-up.)

"Of course I'm not just being polite. There's no need for me to lie: you're a sex goddess; you're an 18-year-old female avatar of Kamadeva, god of love."

"Will I still be able to do my job? When I strip, will the men still want me?"

"Of course they will."

"I think you're just trying to be nice."

"What ever makes you think that?"

"Well, you haven't tried to ravish me, have you?"

Not able to contain himself anymore, he instantly unzipped his pants and pulled out his phallus. Since she was still bent over in front of him, at first he couldn't decide which hole to enter. He decided that going in her vagina was what she must have wanted, though she would actually have enjoyed anal sex a lot, too. In any case, he put the finger of his right hand back in her rectum so she could enjoy a double penetration. As he slid his rock-hard phallus in and out of her vagina, and as his finger massaged her rectal walls, he reached back with his left hand and tickled her left foot. The pleasure of the double penetration was multiplied tenfold by his tickling fingers, and she orgasmed sooner than usual.

He, however, wasn't done yet.

He pulled his still-erect penis out of her vagina and his finger out of her anus. Looking back at him, she said, "You can put your cock in my ass if you want."

"Actually, your feet especially excite me," he said.

"Do you want a foot job?"

"I'd love one," he panted nervously in anticipation.

She turned around and carefully put her feet on either side of his penis. With her soles she gently stroked it; she used her toes to tickle his scrotum and gently tap his testes. All the while, his hands caressed her toes, heels, and arches. She also put her toes under his penis and wiggled them against his frenulum. All of this stimulation, along with his absolute adoration of her feet, sped up his climax, and he ejaculated all over them. She giggled at it.

"They are so beautiful," he said.

"Thank you," she said with a grin. "And thanks for examining me."

"My pleasure," he said, using Kleenex to wipe his penis clean and putting it back in his pants.

He then got some paper towels to wipe her feet clean and to clean her fluid off his wooden floor. As he did this, she put on her shoes and stood by the door.

"I just remembered something. I hate to leave, doctor..." She suddenly lost her breathy voice.

"Please...call me Ravinder."

"Sorry, Ravinder, but I have to get home now. My roommate needs to talk to me about something; I meant to talk to her about it before I came here, but she wasn't in when I got in, and I forgot. She says it's urgent, so I gotta go. Sorry. We'll do something together again real soon. I'm just across the hall from you, so just knock, OK?"